


Like a Super Villain Without Their Hero

by Danes (orphan_account)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Light Angst, Live Show: The Debate, Tumblr Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1676081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Danes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus Vansten has ascended, but his absence is not without consequence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Super Villain Without Their Hero

**Author's Note:**

> "But for real a fic would be really interesting. Because when I listened to the Debate, I thought [the Library's] reaction would be that of sadness, actually. Like, who was she going to scream at now? How dare [Marcus] become divine! Like a supervillain losing their hero."
> 
> A gift to [nightvalelibrary](http://nightvalelibrary.tumblr.com/%22) and [babyvanston](http://babyvanston.tumblr.com/post/86461803625/marcus-had-become-so-overwhelmed-with-pain-and)
> 
> Marcus V (aka Baby Marcus; Marcus Jr; Junior; Table Fucker) is the engineered child of [Divina](http://mistress-strex.tumblr.com/) and my Marcus, spawned from a video call on skype where Divina and Junior were in cosplay.
> 
> If you're curious about how Junior came to be, here's the explanation Divina and I agreed upon:
> 
> Marcus and Divina bone on the coffee table in Marcus's private office. A little bit later, Marcus is studying some donated eggs or some shit and, being the dumb fuck he is, spills it on the table, where Divina's hoo-ha was moments before. He attempts to salvage it, mixing the DNA or w/e, and forces the scientists working for him to make due, so they splice together Junior.
> 
> Please point out any mistakes. Currently unbeta'd. I'm hungry and my mother is a piece of shit. Comicpalooza is gonna be just wonderful this year.

"You could never survive without me," Marcus had once told her, a laugh in his voice. The Library, at the time, had been angry with this statement and made it known by chasing the billionaire through her domain, hurling expletives at him as he laughed like a child.

Now, however, she realized he had been right. The halls were silent, broken only by Katt, the kinder side of her split soul, shelving books.

The Library found herself longing for the sound of pages being turned, the soft sighs Marcus would make when he thought he was alone, tracing the letters he could not read, and the gasps of the outside world that looked upon his often naked body, filtering in from the glass walls.

7 days, 10 hours, 13 minutes, and 34 seconds had passed since Marcus had left the mortal world.

Not that she was counting, of course.

Katt did not take it as hard as she had-- she would miss her companion and his endless flattery, but she did not dwell on it like her other side did.

The Titaness envied her resolve; when she herself had listened to the radio host describe Marcus's ascension, she very nearly escaped the confines of the public library to see him, stopped only by Katt holding her in a tight hug.

For one who had dwelled upon the earth since it's creation, the sensation of grieving was one she had never felt before.

Elsewhere, Katt hummed a quiet tune and moved out of range for the Library to hear her, allowing the Titan's domain to fall silent once more--

A tiny sob filled the air, only a few isles from where the Library stood. Her Librarians remained within their books, unthreatened by the owner's presence.

The Library made her way to the source, finding a young boy, no more than 14 years old, curled up on the floor, his arms and face covered in blood, glass, and a fine white powder.

"Angels aren't real," he whispered to himself, repeating it as though it were a prayer. He paid no mind to the Titan as she stepped closer to him, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Quiet, child," the Library whispered, crouching beside him. Marcus's familiar scent washed over her, bringing forth feelings of nostalgia and empathy. "Your fallacies are noted, but they shall do you know good."

The boy opened his eyes and glared at her, letting out a hiccup that shook his tiny frame.

For a split second, the Library thought she was looking at Marcus's eyes, and not the boy's. They shone like emeralds, brightened by a fierceness his small body betrayed.

"Leave me alone," he hissed, desperately trying to compose himself. "I'm mourning my father."

It occurred to her then, too, that Marcus had never spoken of his life to her nor Katt; whatever happened to him in the outside world was left outside, where it belonged.

"Stand, child, and let me see you," she demanded quietly. Reluctantly, the child stood, glowering at the floor.

Her suspicions were correct-- he resembled Marcus almost to a T, except for his pale skin, brown, lush hair, and weak body. His clothes looked like they actually belong to Marcus himself: a baggy, satin red button up hung off his body like a coat and, beneath it, a bloody grey shirt that proclaimed "#1 SON" and dark boxers patterned with dollar signs.

The child seemed unaware of the dried blood that caked his face and arms, nor the glass it stemmed from; telepathically, the Library told Katt of their guest and to bandages and something to clean his wounds.

"What is your name, boy?" the Library barked, scrutinizing him.

"Marcus Vansten," he sniffed, "the Fifth."

"You have manners-- more than I can say about your father. Why are you covered in powder?"

That struck a nerve with the young Marcus. His body tensed and tears welled in his eyes, as though he was afraid that another word could cause him to fall.

"I broke it."

"Broke what, boy? Be clear, boy; I cannot read your mind."

"... the table. I- I broke the table."

It didn't take a genius to know what table he spoke of, but it took an old soul such as herself to know what it meant.

The coffee table made of human bones contained the remains of each member of the Vansten family, whether they were grounded into a fine powder to be part of a larger design or kept intact to serve as the frame. It was a strange tradition, but it was their family's pride; Marcus, himself, kept it hidden where only he could find it, and had, presumably, showed it to his son.

Katt approached them, her bright red hair a beacon upon her head, and gave the Library a curious look. The Titan shared her knowledge with her other half, who looked at Marcus in sympathy.

"Come with me, Marcus," Katt whispered, stepping beside him and urging him forward with a gentle hand. The boy did not move, however, instead studying the Library's face.

"You never told me your name," he stated, his voice filled with the same authority as his father. "That's impolite."

The Library hesitated and the boy looked away, letting Katt guide him.

"Eidyia."

The boy looked back at the Titaness, a tiny smile upon his lips, and nodded, before turning back and disappearing among the bookshelves.

The Librarian knew better than to waste a second chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr time:
> 
> I don't know where I'll end up, [but I'll definitely be naked.](http://friendlyneighborhoodbillionare.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [“A real orange-ocalypse,”](http://strexcorpbotanist.tumblr.com/) you may have thought, but kept to yourself.
> 
> Look to the sky. You will not find answers there, but you will certainly see [what everyone is screaming about.](http://internharlan.tumblr.com/)


End file.
